


A Red Legend

by writertitan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 18th Century, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Badass Levi Ackerman, Blood and Violence, Captain Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hange Zoë Being Hange Zoë, Kenny Ackerman Being an Asshole, Mission Fic, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Pirate Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Pirates, Protective Levi Ackerman, Reader-Insert, Rescue Missions, Sassy Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Sirens, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writertitan/pseuds/writertitan
Summary: After pirates come looking for your missing father and a mysterious gem, you're forced into needing Captain Levi's help in finding both of your parents before it's too late.
Relationships: Levi Ackerman & Reader, Levi Ackerman/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	A Red Legend

**Author's Note:**

> The Levi series is finally up!!! After so long of teasing it!!! Enjoy some good ol' Pirate!Levi.

There’s a knife at your throat. Granted, you’ve never actually experienced a knife to your throat before, but the cold, serrated edge that pricks against your skin can only be so many things. Your eyes want to snap open and see who has you like this, who it was that managed to not wake you up until they had you in a bind, but you force yourself to keep your eyes closed. Hopefully you appear calm outwardly, maybe even still asleep. Because on the inside? You’re screaming like a lunatic.

“Wake up, dolly,” a gravelly voice rasps in your ear. You tense but open your eyes, meeting the bloodshot gaze of a man you’ve never seen before. He grins a yellowed and rotting grin when he sees your eyes on him, and you force yourself not to shudder. 

_He’s ugly_ , you think. 

“Now, I don’t wanna hurt ya,” he starts, “but I can only keep my promise if ya tell me where ya daddy is.” 

Your father? Why on earth would Ugly want to know where your father is? 

You try to move away from his knife but the knife follows your movements, and only seems to irritate the intruder. 

“No movin’,” he grunts. Your lips press together in a frown. 

“I don’t know where he is,” you tell him, and that’s the truth. Thankfully, your voice comes out leveled, albeit in a whisper. Ugly has his knife pressed so firmly to your skin that you’re afraid even the vibrations of your voice will cause a tiny slash.

Before Ugly has a chance to respond to that, there’s a loud series of clashes and bangs on the other side of your bedroom door. He turns his head to look and the momentary distraction is your cue to spring into action. The adrenaline from waking up hostage has erased any lethargy from being asleep, and you’re quick to push yourself away from your unattractive intruder. He tries to come after you but you’re quicker than him. Your nails find the skin of his wrist, the wrist holding the knife, and you clamp down hard, hard enough to force him to let go of his weapon.

“Bitch!” he screams, his other hand moving to grab you, but you’ve already snatched his knife from him and are pointing it right at his face.

“Who are you?” you demand, your grip tightening on the handle of the knife as if that will help stop the trembling of your hand. 

The bangs outside get louder, and there’s voices screaming. You hear your name and you both jolt and turn to look when your bedroom door is practically ripped off its hinges. A small pile of people fall into your room and you immediately recognize the one fighting against all of them as your mother. She’s not dressed in her nightgown, like you, but in her usual skirt and blouse, and looks disheveled and bruised up; when she catches your eye, you notice the bloody nose and the swelling cheek that’s quickly turning a sickly shade of blue. 

“Mama!” 

The distraction serves Ugly well. While you move to go and help your mother, he’s the quick one this time, and is able to snatch the knife back. And this time, he’s able to loop his arm around your middle, holding you against his too-warm chest as the knife rests back on your throat. This time, you do feel the edge nip at your skin enough to draw blood. 

Despite all the commotion, you’re able to gauge the situation. There’s two men struggling with your mother, both as ugly as Ugly. Whether they have weapons on them or not is a mystery; they’re too busy trying to bind your mother up. 

Ugly’s knife knicks your skin more when you struggle against his hold, trying to get to your mother. You cry out when one of the intruders kicks her and she crumples to the floor. It hurts more than the knife at your neck. 

“Leave her alone!” you plead, angry tears pricking at your eyes, and your mother looks at you with the most panicked eyes you’ve ever seen. She’s never looked like this before. She’s never looked so helpless. 

“We just want the gems,” one of the intruders grunts, pushing your mother onto her stomach so the other man can finally tie her wrists behind her back with some rope. “Just tell us where the gems are, and where your scoundrel of a husband is, and maybe we’ll spare ya.” 

The gems? You pale as your mind struggles to process what’s going on. 

“Hear that? Maybe you’ll live, if ya give us what we want,” Ugly rasps into your ear. You cringe and try to wriggle in his grasp, but he’s got both of your arms locked at your sides. He’s stronger than he looks, that’s for sure.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, hands balled into fists as the adrenaline races through your veins. “My mother and I don’t know anything about any gems! And my father’s out at sea right now, away on business. He’s just a sea merchant. He won’t be back for another fortnight. You’ve got the wrong family, I swear it!”

The knife disappears from your throat but your relief is short-lived. Ugly discards of it, only so that his hand can wrap around your throat and squeeze. You try to gasp, already seeing stars. 

“Don’t know who your daddy is at all, do ya?” Ugly says, then laughs loudly. “Polo, Argen, ya hear that? Hank’s just a sea merchant!” The other two men, Polo and Argen, join in on the laughter, and you want to punch their lights out more than anything. 

Ugly forces you to look at him over your shoulder, his fingers clenching your jaw so roughly that you can almost feel the bruises forming. 

“Your daddy’s _not_ away on business, dolly,” he sneers. “Don’t take us for fools. Now, you’re gonna tell us where the gems are, or else we’re just gonna have to hurt ya real bad.” 

You hear your mother call out your name, but Ugly forces you to keep looking at him, even when you hear the unmistakable sounds of the other two men beating her for still struggling. More angry tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. 

“Boss, let’s just take ‘em with us. If Hank finds out we have his gals, maybe he’ll tell us where to find the damn gems,” you hear one of the men say. 

Ugly ponders the idea. He breathes out heavily in thought and his putrid breath makes you gag. Then he looks at you, that wretched smile returning, and you blink back your tears to give him a steely gaze. 

“Since you don’t wanna tell us where the gems are, and you wanna keep lyin’ about your daddy, we’re gonna have to teach you a lesson,” Ugly tells you, and you cry out as he slaps you hard across the face. The force of it sends you sprawling back onto your bed. You hear him tell Polo and Argen to tie you up too, “just like her mommy,” and you struggle as they pin you down and have their coarse rope bite into your wrists. They tie your hands to your front, while your mother’s hands are tied behind her back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ugly leave the room, calling out to an unknown person. 

Slowly, you start to feel the adrenaline making room for the shock. You panic, knowing fully that you’re going into shock, but you do your best to stay clear-headed. Your mother barely looks conscious and alarms go off in your head. Polo and Argen are arguing about who has the pleasure of carrying her around, now that she’s basically deadweight, but you see a flicker of something in your mother’s eyes. Your own eyes widen. 

She’s pretending. She’s playing dead, essentially. You nod once in understanding, careful not to get noticed, and then frown at the fatter of the two men who comes over to you. 

“Come on then, dolly,” he says, grunting as he throws you over his shoulder. You still don’t know which one is Polo and which one is Argen.

“Let me go!” you scream, struggling against him and hitting his back with your joined hands. The man smacks your ass and barks a command for you to stop, but the violation only fuels you to keep going.

You see the other man carrying out your mother in a similar way, and you glare at him the entire way out of your house. You only start to really panic when you feel the cold night air nip at your skin, and suddenly you’re looking at the front of your quaint home. 

“Where are you taking me?!” you seethe, but nobody is answering your questions. 

Any other questions you have die in your throat when you see a group of people surround your house, torches in their hands. Ugly is leading the pack, and he lets out a war cry as he throws in the first torch through one of the front windows. The others follow, aggressive shouts sounding in the air as they help to light your home on fire. The only home you’d ever known. 

The despair makes you feel like you weigh a million pounds and you can’t even scream or cry like you want to. You slump against your kidnapper’s shoulder, ashamed at the fact that you have to admit defeat. He keeps walking and the other man falls into step next to him, so that you can see your mother. Her hair hides her face and she’s not moving. 

“Mama,” you whisper, and she turns her head just barely, enough for you to look at her battered face. 

Unlike you, she still looks like she’s ready to put up a fight. Her gaze is almost feral. She was always a fighter, and she’d taught you everything you knew. Neither of you say anything; you can’t, not without Polo and Argen hearing whatever you have to say. All your mother does is nod, and you nod back, tears springing to your eyes again. 

The farther you get from home, the more you see that it wasn’t only your home being set ablaze. The entire port is in ruins, flames licking up to the black sky, and all you can hear is destruction and yelling. 

It feels like forever until you’re suddenly dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Your mother is dropped down next to you, and you lock eyes with her. She’s still feral, but there’s another emotion there. Intention. 

She scoots closer to you, so that her whisper is one only you can hear. 

“Take the maps in my skirt pocket,” she tells you. 

You nod, and silently move your hands to her skirt, digging around in her pocket while Polo and Argen argue in front of you. 

“It’s your turn to take the old hag! She’s fuckin’ heavy!” the one who carried your mother snaps, and the one who carried you scoffs. 

“Shut the hell up, Polo, you’re such a lazy bastard.” 

Well, at least know you knew who was who. 

But their bickering was enough for you to sift around in the pocket of your mother’s skirt, until you felt folded paper. You crumple it into your hands, careful to keep your hands balled up, as you didn’t have pockets of your own in your nightgown. You adjust yourself away from your mother just in time, both Polo and Argen coming to retrieve you again. 

Argen picks you up again, throwing you over his shoulder while Polo bitches about your mother being too heavy, but picks her up again anyway. 

“Say bye to your mommy, dolly,” Argen tells you, and you tense up at the words. 

“What?” you gasp out, and then whip your head to see where your mother is. 

Polo is carrying her, but away from you. You’re being taken to one ship, and she’s being taken to another. The panic flares you in again. How can you survive this without her? 

“Mama!” you call out, frantic, and only then does she reveal herself to Polo. She’s not deadweight after all, and starts struggling when she realizes what’s going on. The last thing you see before Argen carries you onto the ship is Polo knocking your mother’s head against a pile of barrels, rendering her unconscious.

You keep calling out for her even when you’re on the ship and out of sight, the tears hot in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks, the maps balled up in your hands, and you yelp when Argen tosses you to the floor of the ship. 

“You’re a little too old to be callin’ out for your mommy like that,” he says, then slumps down to sit on a barrel next to you. 

You don’t engage in a conversation with him. You just try to soothe yourself, and be the person your mother is. She wouldn’t cry in a situation like this. She’d plan and scheme, and eventually, fight. 

So that’s what you’re going to do. Because that’s what she’s taught you to do.

“When I get free, I’m gonna kick your ass,” you snarl, but it only makes Argen laugh.

“I’ll admit, you did put up a fight,” he concedes. “But you’re just a dolly. Don’t pick a fight with me.” 

You glare at him, but keep quiet. You won’t pick a fight, not right now. Though patience isn’t your strong suit, you know you have to reign it in, have to channel it for this.

“It’s you who doesn’t want to pick a fight with me,” you quip. 

Argen seems annoyed now. It makes you tense up, but you try not to show it. 

“If you’re gonna be a mouthy bitch all night, let me know now,” he warns you, and you lift your chin defiantly as you stare at him.

“What if I’m planning on it?” you ask him. 

Argen’s eyes harden and he hunches over so his face is close to yours. You smell brandy on him.

“Then I’m gonna have to do this,” he says. 

Before you can ask what _this_ is, he brings his hand up, balls it into a fist, and the next thing you know, all you see is black.

***

When you come to again, you’re still slouched against the same barrels Argen had set you against earlier. You’re surprised to see that you’re alone. A quick check to your hands ensures that you still have the maps from your mother and you breathe a sigh of relief. However, the relief is only short-lived.

Panic, and then adrenaline, bolts through you when you hear the shouting. You scramble to get to your feet, eyes wide as you take in the scene that the barrels have managed to hide you from.

Everything is aflame. There’s blood everywhere, and splintered wood, and corpses. It’s pure horror but you can’t even scream. You just watch as men fight one another, unsure of what to do or what’s happening. The ship is lurching and your eyes do a sweep, only to see that the burning port of your small town is just a distant, orange glow, and there’s a ship rammed up against the one you’re on. Hopefully, it's the one your mother’s on. 

“There she is!” 

The booming voice makes you jump and try to find its owner. Everyone seems to be fighting; everyone left standing, that is. But then you see an older man in a silly cravat running towards you, eyes furied, and you stumble backward as if it’ll help. 

You have a mind to try and escape but it’s pointless. Unless you can suddenly jump off the ship and swim all the way back home with bound hands, you’re a little out of luck. 

The man collides into you and man-handles you, roughly dragging you towards the ship that’s rammed up against the one you’re currently on. You struggle against his hold but he’s freakishly strong. That doesn’t mean he’s not irritated, though. 

“Can you calm down?! We’re saving you!” he complains. “Behave for your new friend Oluo, yeah?” 

Oluo. What a ridiculous name. And with that ridiculous cravat, it suits him perfectly. 

“Oluo. You can’t even handle a little girl?” another voice asks to your right. 

Eyes the color of metal meet yours, and his gaze is as hard as metal, too. He looks so angry. 

“Sorry, Captain Levi. She’s a fighter,” the way that the clown named Oluo says it, it’s more of a complaint, and you can’t help but roll your eyes and prove his point by trying to yank away from his grip again. The man with the metal eyes frowns at that. Captain Levi.

“I’ll take her,” Captain Levi says. Oluo tosses you over to him without complaint. 

“I’ll stay here and fight!” Oluo declares, unsheathing his sword. Somehow, he makes it all look...ridiculous. 

And then he’s running off to go and join the fighting, and you’re left with Captain Levi, who tosses you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. Despite his very short stature, his grip is like iron. Everything about the captain makes it seem like he’s made of metal. 

“I wish people would stop treating me like a sack of flour,” you snap, bound hands thumping in protest against Captain Levi’s back. He doesn’t even flinch. “I can walk, Captain Levi.” 

“Stop talking,” is all he says, and your entire body flares in anger. You give him one more hit against his back, but then he’s carrying you over a wide plank of wood connecting the two ships together, and you freeze in terror as you look down at the black waters below. 

Once you’re on the other ship, Levi immediately tosses you to the floor. You land on your ass and you groan in pain, but start looking around. It’s quieter over here, but there’s still men running about, yelling orders and shooting glances at the ship you’d just been on. But there’s no fighting here. Once you’ve confirmed that there are no battles being fought here, your eyes do a sweep for your mother, hoping that this is, in fact, the ship she’s on.

“Where’s my mother?” you ask the captain when you can’t find her. He cocks a brow at you, but his face otherwise remains unbothered. Bored, almost. 

“Don’t know,” he answers. “Thought she’d be with you.”

“Well she’s obviously not,” you quip, then you get exasperated when his face doesn’t change and he makes no effort to talk to you. He barks an order to a passing sailor to check something below deck, and you kick his shin to get his attention again.

“Hello?! Can you at least tell me what the hell is going on?!” you demand. He frowns at you and his glare only seems to harden. 

“I just had my crew save your sorry ass from those mutts, and you’re yelling at me?” he asks, then scoffs. “You should be thanking me.” 

“Thanks,” you hiss, then nod towards the faint glow of the port in the distance. “So are you taking me home?” 

The short man scoffs, then says, “No.” 

“Then how is this saving me?! You’re just kidnapping me like those other assholes! If you’re not taking me home, where are we going? I need to find my mother! And my father! And _you_ -”

He groans suddenly, his apathetic expression finally showing some emotion. Holding his hand up to signal you to stop talking, you heed his warning, and his words also cut you off.

“Can you just shut the fuck up? You’re yapping like an annoying puppy,” he snaps. It does the trick; you’re stunned into silence. 

But then his words catch up in your brain and your eyes blaze with anger. Your so-called savior doesn’t even have the decency to explain things to you.

“You know, you’re a little too short to have such a big ego,” you tell him. Might as well insult him if he’s going to be so rude to you. 

Captain Levi’s eyes flash for a moment, but then he’s back to being emotionless. 

“How about you stick to your annoying little puppy act and follow me,” he states. 

“Untie my hands,” you order, which makes the captain scoff again.

“No dice,” he responds easily. “You can come with me, or you can go back to that other ship where they will most certainly kill you.”

For a moment, you think of relenting and just doing as you’re told. Neither option sounds good, but you’d rather take your chances with Captain Levi. 

Until a third option pops into your head. Well, an amendment of the second option the captain had given you.

“I think your men have done a _fine_ job of killing all the big, bad wolves for me,” you retort, a smug smirk on your face as you realize you _could_ take your chances on the other ship. A lot of the captain’s crew were making their way back. There was a good chance that you’d only be met with the dead on the other ship. You could take it over and go back home and start your quest on finding your parents.

You’re thinking about this as you try to hop onto the ledge of the ship, eyes fixated on the wide plank you’d used to cross beforehand. You try not to think of the deadly sea beneath you as you try to stand, balance a little off with your hands tied together. 

“Are you insane?!” Captain Levi’s voice rings out behind you and he yanks you against his chest before you can make any real progress. 

Damn. He’s fast. 

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he seethes, and you wrench yourself out his arms. 

“I need to find my parents!” you protest, and the captain runs a hand over his face, clearly already so sick and tired of this.

“I know you do. I need to find them, too” he tells you. “Particularly, your father. I was part of his crew before everything went to hell.” 

“What?” you say, confused. “I’m not following. You’re a sea merchant?” 

Now it’s Captain Levi who’s confused. “What the hell are you yapping about now? I’m not a sea merchant.” 

“Then what are you?” 

That’s when Oluo seems to take his cue. He hops back onto the ship from one of the planks connecting the two, bellowing a laugh at your confused and irritated expression.

“He’s a pirate, lass! Just like me. Just like your old man!” 

“My father is _not_ a pirate!” you shout, and Oluo howls with laughter. He wipes a tear from his eye, as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. 

“Your father _is_ a pirate. A fucking legendary one,” Captain Levi offers. “I’m not surprised he kept it from you, though. His annoying pup of a daughter. You’d probably yap his ear off.” 

“Stop calling me that, I’m not a puppy,” you say, but the words aren’t as harsh as you’d like. You’re still reeling from the knowledge of your father’s...occupation. Did your mother know? How could he hide it so well? 

The surprising feeling of bile rising in your throat makes your eyes widen. All of this, all of tonight, has proved to be too much; you literally cannot stomach it. You rush to the ship’s ledge and heave, vomiting over the wooden railing of the ship. 

“Disgusting,” you hear a certain captain say. 

You spit the remnants of vomit out of your mouth, but you have half a mind to turn around and spit it at him. 

You turn around slowly, meeting Captain Levi’s metal glare, and you try your best to mimic it.

“If you’re part of my father’s crew, then you need to help me find him,” you say. “Those... _men_ on that other ship took me and my mother. They were going to use us as bait to capture my father. But this is all a huge misunderstanding.” 

“No it’s not,” he cuts you off. “Those men were after the gems, right?” 

“My father doesn’t have any gems,” you say, but the words don’t even sound believable to you. How can you convince Captain Levi to let you go and let your father go, when you didn’t even know your father was a pirate until two minutes ago? “My mother and I are caught up in the middle of something ridiculous! We’ve never seen any gems.” 

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Here’s my deal,” he says finally, eyes still closed as he speaks. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to help your family. Don’t try anything funny and I’ll help you find both of your parents. But we have to focus on finding your dad first, got it?” 

Although you can’t bring yourself to fully trust the captain, you nod your head slowly, making sure you look as wary as possible. 

“Got it,” you whisper.

“Good.” Captain Levi inhales deeply, trying to calm himself, then opens his eyes and looks towards the ship he’s just invaded with his crew. Sailors, or rather, pirates, are dragging the planks back onto the ship you’re on, and you can sort of tell that the other boat is sinking now. A few men toss some torches for good measure, though the ship is already engulfed in flames at this point. Too much pyromancy has occurred tonight. You hate fire.

“Why are you helping?” you ask the captain suddenly. “Just because you’re part of my father’s crew?” 

He raises a brow at you, as if the answer is obvious. “I need those gems.”

You deflate. So, just another pirate. If anything, you might be leading your father’s killer right to him if you help Captain Levi. But this is your only option right now. 

Besides, you’ve carefully chosen your words so far. As far as everyone else is concerned, you’re truly clueless about everything. While you may have been clueless about your father’s double life (which definitely helps your ruse as a clueless maiden), you certainly were _not_ dumb to the reason this was all happening.

Nobody knows your secret. Thankfully, their information is a little off and you’ll be able to lie a little better because of it. 

There aren’t _gems_ , plural. Just one. 

And you happen to know exactly where it is.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Follow me on Tumblr (writertitan) for updates, other works, and general tomfoolery!


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